


Never Sleep Alone

by grimsama



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994)
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Daddy Kink, Edging, Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Reader-Insert, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-16 03:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21264164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimsama/pseuds/grimsama
Summary: You've heard of him going around town, now he's got you. But while others are dying off, you stick around - why? Was it mercy, was it a whim? You aren't sure, but Freddy is sure of at least two things: you're not like the others, and you want him badly.





	1. Myth

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween! instead of candy I'm giving ya'll freddy content tonight, with a special treat :P enjoy!

Class; the ideal place to completely check out and think about anything  _ but _ the lecture, and that’s exactly what you had been doing for the past twenty minutes. Daydreaming was always a bad habit of yours, though you never really made much of an effort to curb it. You liked to view it the same way you viewed regular dreams, and they always piqued your interest. The stories and scenarios that your subconscious jammed together, pick pocketing from day to day life and sewing the pieces together into some kind of Frankenstein’s reality - it fascinated you. To you, dreams were a direct connection to you soul: your desires, experiences, and fears in their rawest forms. Who could blame you for wanting to indulge in that? Not to mention - 

“(Y/n), did you hear me?”

“Huh?” You whipped your head to face your classmate on the right, whose sudden words brought you crashing back to earth.

“I said, did you get the notes from that last slide?” he whispered, pointing at your notebook.

You glanced up at the powerpoint, which was on a slide you didn’t recognize, then back to your notes, which were surrounded by doodles. “Uh sorry, no.” you answered with a sheepish laugh.

He sighed and turned away to ask someone else.

Oops. Anyway, where were you? Oh yeah. So it was no surprise that you couldn’t help but eavesdrop when you heard talk around town of some kind of “dream demon” visiting an increasing amount of people; they were mostly your age or younger, some of them you were acquainted with. Everyone was having these recurring nightmares and they all had at least one thing in common, a terrifying burnt man with claws on his right hand. They talked of being stalked,  _ hunted _ by him, and how he used their worst fears against them and ultimately tried to kill them. 

It was all so thrilling to hear about, not to mention utterly bizarre! Sure people could have similar dreams, or the same dreams several times in a row, but at least a dozen completely random people were having uncannily similar experiences. And every time you heard about it, it got even crazier.

Everything changed when the first death occurred. A young guy, someone you apparently went to high school with according to your friend, had died in a pretty vicious accident. The coroner ruled it was driving under the influence, but the autopsy itself said otherwise. Word was that his bloodstream was clean as a whistle - except for a shitload of caffeine - and there were extra injuries that didn’t add up with the crash. He was one of the ones that had started to get really antsy in the past couple of days: always looked dead tired and wouldn’t stop talking about the demon. However, after this kid kicked the bucket no one wanted to talk about him anymore. No one talked about their dreams, as if even bringing it up marked you for the next kill. You still heard some hushed conversations, but after the second and third deaths everyone totally clammed up. No nightmares, no demon. Just a growing number of people who weren’t letting themselves fall asleep.

You began to wonder if this was just some kind of mass hysteria around three otherwise unconnected incidents. That’s what the police wanted to think, anyway. Though something in the back of your mind was making you more and more apprehensive about going to sleep every night. I mean, you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of this guy since the mania began, but would it just be a matter of time?

The fourth mysterious death had occurred just yesterday, so everyone was still reeling and you were determined to stay up all night tonight, just in case. Your normal nightmares were twisted enough, you didn’t need some horrific monster coming along and making it even worse before killing you.

You decided watching TV would be enough to keep you up all night. You laid out on the couch and channel surfed for a while, nothing particularly interesting on at 11:46. You definitely couldn’t afford to watch something boring or else you’d be doomed. You finally settled on bingeing a season of Law and Order SVU and doggedly gulped from a mug of coffee, needing it more for the caffeine than anything else. Although at this point you weren’t entirely sure if it was doing anything besides making you have to pee. 

Nonetheless determined, you pushed through the night. Three more episodes had passed and by the fourth you caught yourself slipping, head jerking backward and falling onto the soft cushion only for you to sit upright again. You could feel it in your bones how tired you were, but you couldn’t give up yet!

“C’mon stay awake,” you chanted to yourself while slapping your face, pinching your cheeks, and taking another sip of the now cold, mediocre coffee. You also turned the volume up a bit and changed your position on the couch, already feeling a little better and focusing in on the show. The detectives were interrogating a suspect in a rape and murder, two of them really grilling the guy with hard to dodge questions while they threw the evidence on the table.

“You recognize this little girl?” one of them asked, pointing to the photo of the corpse of a young teen girl mangled on the morgue slab.

“Maybe if she didn’t look like shit I would,” the suspect grumbled. The shot switched back to the table and showed more pictures of her injuries: skin falling off in some places, clear handprints on her neck, bruises everywhere. You’re suddenly very aware of how grotesque the images were. You could see pools of blood at the crime scene, one of her eyes gouged out, obviously broken ribs, and all over her body were these cuts slicing through her skin in groups of four, like the claws of an animal. You didn’t think they could even show that kind of stuff on TV.

One cop said, “If you don’t tell us the truth this is gonna happen to you.”

Then the other one leaned down and chimed in, but the voice that spoke wasn’t his, and you could hear it as if it was right in your ear. “Are ya scared yet?”

That line caused you to shudder, and you swore to god you felt breath on skin like that strange voice really was in the room with you. But it couldn’t have been, there was nothing behind you and the couch but solid wall. Suddenly deep, dark laughter echoed through the room as the lights flickered and the television froze on a picture of the slashes. The hairs on your arms stood straight with fear as you’re hit with the gut wrenching revelation that there’s only one way this could be happening; you fell asleep.

“H-hello?” you called out, and immediately every light blew out, leaving you in complete darkness. You instinctively coiled back onto the couch, your response since childhood when faced with your fear of the dark. Moments later an ominous red glow began to emanate from down the hall, and with really nothing else to do, you reluctantly made your way to it. It was coming from your bedroom, but when you opened the door, rather than your room you’re met with a metal grate catwalk leading into a massive room filled with dripping pipes, large machinery, and steam. A blast of hot air greeted you, and just as you were about to nope right out of there, some invisible force shoved you forward onto the catwalk and slammed the door behind you. You turned around to run back, but the door is flat out gone, replaced by a dead end of pipes.

The menacing laughter echoed once again from the bowels of this power plant kind of place, mocking you. “What do you want from me?!” you shouted, banging your fist on the metal railing. 

There was no reply, only the droning noise of churning machinery and a burning fire. Then, in the distance, that voice came again. “One, two, Freddy’s coming for you,” it sang.

You begrudgingly made your way along the catwalk and down a steep flight of stairs to the concrete floor, where you’re surrounded by a maze of scorching hot pipes, flames, hanging chains, and a roaring boiler. As if the miserable heat wasn’t enough, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was constantly right behind you, but when you looked there was never anyone there. 

Suddenly there came an ear splitting screech, the awful sound of metal against metal, followed by the deep voice of your stalker as he lilted, “ _ I found you. _ ”

You whipped around to see a menacing, lanky figure standing in the cloud of steam billowing from a broken pipe, silhouetted by the red glow. It was hard to make out the details, but it appeared to be a man wearing a hat and a sweater. One thing you couldn’t miss, though: the long, sharp claws - or were they fingernails? - on his right hand. Your racing heart skipped a beat.

“Pretty little thing, aren’t ya?” he said with a teasing tone, definitely the source of the voice you’d been hearing. He took a step towards you and you instinctively backed up, when all at once the white noise of the boiler room went silent and the world went dark once more, so dark that you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. You just stood there frozen in fear, the only sounds now being his footsteps as he approached you and your shivering, ragged breath. You couldn’t tell where he was, but could feel his eyes watching you like some amused predator.

“W-who are you?” you croaked out, honestly afraid of the answer. The footsteps stopped right in front of you and you didn’t dare reach out to feel where he was. You could hear the shifting of clothes as he moved, then a quiet clink before you felt a cool, sharp blade against your cheek. It moved slowly down your face, a stinging pain following the mark that you were sure broke skin, but you were too scared to run or even fight. He was so close you could hear him breathing right by your ear and feel it on your neck.

“I’m your worst nightmare,” he purred. Suddenly his clawed hand grabbed your face and jerked you closer to him as you felt something soft and wet drag up your cheek - his tongue?!

You screamed and yanked yourself away, defensively clapping your hands over your ears and crouching to the ground as he let out a wicked cackle. “Stop! Leave me alone!” you cried, but the evil, nasally laugh echoed loudly from every direction and in your head, like surround sound on blast. Then in an instant it all dissipated: the heat, the laughter, everything. You felt your head hit the soft cushion of the couch as you thrashed about and opened your eyes to see you were back in the living room. The TV was playing an ordinary episode of SVU, everything was normal. You took a deep breath to try and calm down. It was just a dream - you must have fallen asleep. You went to wipe the cold sweat from your face when you felt a hot, stinging sensation, making you rush to the bathroom mirror. Sure enough there was the cut, starting at your temple and following the curve of your cheek down to your jaw. Some blood was already starting to clot, but there were a few drips and smears on your chin where it accumulated. Your stomach dropped and your blood ran cold as you realized that you’d been pulled into this mania, too. You were prey.

You quickly cleaned the wound and then retreated to your room, opting to keep the lights on. You couldn’t get the nightmare out of your head: that man’s laughter, the sweltering heat of the boiler room, the claws on his hand, and how creepy it felt to be stalked by him. But who - or what - was he? In an attempt to get some answers, you pulled out a sketchbook and quickly drew the man that you saw. His cocky stature, his hat… it was hard to tell, but it looked like his sweater had stripes on it, and of course the razor sharp weapons. You decided that tomorrow you’d ask one of the others about him and see if it was indeed the guy they’d been talking about.

And no matter what, you were  _ not _ going to sleep again.


	2. Head Games

When morning finally rolled around, the combination of lack of sleep and paranoia had you struggling to get ready and get out the door. With no other choice, really, you just downed a potent energy drink and shoved on. 

As you feared, talk of the nightmares had pretty much gone extinct since the deaths kept happening. Nobody wanted to acknowledge what so many people insisted was the truth behind everything, so your hopes of jumping into a passing conversation were dwindling as the day went on. Still you went about the usual routine and clocked into work in the afternoon, knowing this shift would be hell on your body. Despite your aching, tired muscles and mind, you had to keep yourself busy. Every time you zoned out you saw that man; he appeared in the corners of your vision, or you would feel his claws on you. You were starting to wonder if it wasn’t just regular dreams where he could get you - if only a daydream could let him in, too. 

In a daze, you sat on a plastic crate in the break room of the convenience store where you worked, hardly aware enough to realize your friend and coworker, Jen, was approaching you.

“Hey, are you feeling alright? You look exhausted - whoa what happened to your face?” she said in a shocked whisper.

“Oh, I guess I’m just tired,” you yawned. “Hey, you know those nightmares everyone’s been having?”

“Yeah,” she responded uneasily. She always seemed skeptical of it all, and you wondered if she’d even believe you.

“Have you been having them, too?”

“... (Y/n), are you sure you’re okay?”

You’re joined by another employee, Ryan, who walked in looking like he’d been hit by a bus. “Are you guys talking about what’s been going on around town?” he whispered.

“Yeah, have you been having the dreams?”

He nodded gravely. “I haven’t slept in four days.”

“Hey can I ask you something?” You quickly fished your sketchbook out of your bag and flipped it open to what you drew last night. “Is this the guy? The one that everyone’s been seeing?”

Ryan’s face immediately drained of color at the sight of it and he had to look away, too afraid to see him. “Yeah that’s him alright. Don’t tell me he’s after you, too?”

“I think I dreamt about him last night.”

Suddenly he turned frantic, grabbing your shoulders with a crazed look in his eyes. “You gotta stay awake, man! He gets in your head, he figures out all your shit and fucks you up!”

You thought of last night, how everything went dark - he used your irrational fear against you. “Do… do you see him during the day, too? Even when you’re not asleep?”

“Maybe? At least, I haven’t, but when you go too long you start micro-napping, then you’re pretty much dead,” he trailed off, the weight of those consequences hanging heavy in the air. 

“Who is he?” you asked desperately. 

“I don’t know… I don’t know.” His arms fell to his sides and he slumped back against the wall, even more tired than before from his outburst. “Some of the others have called him Freddy, they said they heard it in that stupid, creepy nursery rhyme.”

“One two Freddy’s coming for you,” you sang, remembering how he taunted you with it.

“God, don’t!” he exclaimed. “Don’t say it… please.”

“Sorry.”

After calming himself down for a moment he headed towards the door. “Anyway, I gotta get back to work… whatever you do, don’t fall asleep,” he warned, then went back into the store.

“(Y/n), do you really believe all that stuff?” Jen asked. 

“I’m not sure… but what I do know is I had a really freaky dream, and I didn’t make this cut myself.”

“Alright, well, don’t go overboard, okay? I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

You smiled weakly. “Thanks Jen.”

That night, you were really struggling to stay conscious. You knew with every fiber of your being that he was just waiting for the moment you finally conked out, but your whole body felt like dead weight. Not to mention you were mentally exhausted as well from being on edge all day. Even though you were awake, you could feel him watching you from somewhere.

After hours of reasoning with yourself, and then trying to justify why maybe you _ should _ just go to sleep, you surrendered at around nine. You just couldn’t force yourself to stay awake for another 24 hours, so you changed into your pajamas and climbed into bed. Some would call it brave, or stupid, you called it being tired as fuck. You’d take your chances tonight.

The soft mattress and warm covers welcomed your aching bones like the tender arms of a lover, and almost instantly you melted into sweet, sweet sleep. For a good while nothing happened; you slept peacefully until you did start to dream, but the dream wasn’t even scary. You dreamt you were in a massive office building that went on forever, and as you walked along you looked in every cubicle to find a very specific kind of pencil. Bon Jovi was also there for some reason, because dreams just do that sometimes. 

So far, no sign of Freddy, and you didn’t even have that feeling of being watched like before. You were just beginning to think maybe it was all just hysteria, when the sudden blare of a siren jolted you awake. You sighed and turned in your bed to see the pulsating red and blue glow of an ambulance speeding down the street, surely waking up the rest of the neighborhood, too. Maybe there was a car accident or something? No matter, as the sirens faded away you laid back down and rubbed your eyes, sleepiness overtaking you as you fell out of consciousness once again.

You went immediately into another dream, this time manifesting in a ratty old factory. Dim incandescent lights made it so you could just barely make out everything around you: run down machinery, large rusted tools, chains, an array of pipes and cords going this way and that. The walkway you were standing on led to a metal staircase, beckoning you downward into the bowels. From the bottom of the stairs you could hear the roar of a fire and see its distant glow. This place was all too familiar.

As soon as you reached the bottom of the stairs a shiver went down your spine and you immediately knew _ he _ was here.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” That deep, gravelly voice came from behind you in the boiler room. “Some sleeping dogs just won’t lie.”

You whipped around to see him emerge from a cloud of steam. Illuminated by the ominous glow, you could see him clearly this time - the hat, the ratty old pants and boots, a tattered, red and green striped sweater, and something terribly wrong with his skin, like it was burned or melted. He flashed an evil grin at you, and you realized those weren’t fingernails, but knives. A crudely fashioned glove adorned with four blades on the fingers fit snugly on his right hand, perfect for delivering a gruesome death.

“Are you the one who’s been torturing people? Are you Freddy?” you asked, trying hard to suppress the fearful tremble in your voice.

“Freddy Krueger, pleased to meet ya,” he said sarcastically with a bow. 

“What are you doing here? W-what do you want?”

“Oh dollface,” he purred, stepping closer to you and flicking his blades in the air. As they glinted in the light you realized they were coated in fresh, crimson blood. “I’m just doing what I do best.” He let out a thundering cackle as you bolted away from him, darting desperately through the paths and crevices of the pipes.

“Where do you think you’re goin, little piglet?” Suddenly he jumped out from around the corner ahead of you and snagged your arm, catching you in an iron grip.

“I wanna wake up!” you screamed, and he only laughed at your futile squirming.

“I’m not finished with you yet, (y/n).” He grabbed your face with his gloved hand and forced you to look at him, the scars and burns stretching as he smirked.

You gulped at his intent stare, those eyes roaming over you like they could see everything - like you were a hunk of tender meat. “I-If you’re gonna kill me, just do it already,” you choked out through squished cheeks.

His cocky demeanor faltered for a moment, as if the thought hadn’t yet crossed his mind. Thinking you caught him off guard, you tried to pull away again, but his attention was right back on you and he yanked you towards him. “Ah ah ah, now why would I let such an _ angel _ slip away from ol’ Freddy… I think I’ll keep you around for now…” As he said this the boiler flames intensified, the room growing uncomfortably warm and the light casting shadows on his face that exaggerated his features and made him really look like a demon.

In that moment Freddy _ loved _ how scared you were - he could practically taste the fear. That, and something else that he picked up on in your subconscious. It flared up at his teasing and pet names… _ interesting _.

Finally he let go of you and you stumbled back onto the floor. With a cruel sneer he leaned over you and tipped his hat. “I’ll see you soon darling. Sweet dreams!” And just like that he was gone. In the blink of an eye the boiler room and Freddy evaporated into thin air, replaced by your ordinary bedroom. You were sitting up in bed, sheets kicked off and your skin coated in cold sweat. You slapped your face a few times just to be extra sure that you were really awake - everything checked out.

And yet even though you were awake, you still felt like he was nearby, watching you from somewhere. It certainly wasn’t a welcome feeling, but it was somehow a little different than before. What did he mean by keeping you around? And what was with all the pet names? Not what you were expecting from a murderous dream demon, plus it made you feel… weird. You didn’t really want to think about it.

The next day you tried to go about everything normally. After that last encounter you actually slept pretty soundly, so going through your regular schedule wasn’t as exhausting as it had been yesterday. As soon as you got to work, though, you knew something was off. Everyone was quieter - no, gloomier - than normal. You looked around on your way to the back and finally realized you were short one employee.

“Hey Jen, Ryan’s a no-show today?” you asked your friend, who was stocking the snack aisle. 

“No, he uh… he died last night. In his sleep.”

You nearly fell back in shock at the news. How could Ryan be dead? You just spoke with him yesterday and he was… well, you supposed he wasn't exactly fine. He was getting worse in the past days and the nightmares were really getting to him. You thought back to the blood that coated your visitor last night, and the ambulance that drove by. _ Of course _. “Oh… I’m sorry to hear that,” you murmured, taken aback by the true nature of his death. You weren’t close, but several months working most of your shift together still meant something, and it was rather sad to hear. Freddy had never killed someone you actually knew before, and now you couldn’t shake the image of his fresh kill on the claws. 

At the very least work had been slow so far, which made everything a little easier on everyone, for both grieving and picking up the work of our lost comrade. Ever since the morning rush only a few others had trickled in and out, so working the register was less than demanding. You leaned on the counter beside the cash register and propped up your head on one hand, staring blankly at the floor and tuning out the annoying pop music that played softly from the ceiling speakers throughout the store.

“Excuse me miss.”

The sudden appearance of a man in front of you jolted you to your senses and put a flustered blush across your face as you realized you had a customer waiting while you zoned out. “Oh! Sorry sir, how can I help y-” you choked on the last words when you realized the man was actually Freddy standing there, with a slick grin no less. 

“Hiya,” he said nonchalantly, leaning over like you had been and tapping the tips of his knives on the counter, an amused look in his eyes. 

You stood upright and started to back away from him. “Y-you… you killed Ryan last night…?”

“Bingo.”

“Why? What did he ever do to you, or anyone else for that matter?”

He tutted and wagged a finger at you. “That’s just how it is, princess, it’s what I do.”

“Then why are you keeping me alive?!”

Once again his cocky smile faded for a split second, replaced by a flicker of thought, maybe even confusion. Suddenly he appeared on your side of the counter and approached you until you were trapped between him and the shelves of tobacco products behind you. 

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it, kitten… Everyone in town’s talking about the ‘big scary boogeyman,’” he mocked. “The fear, the souls, the dreams: they _ feed _ me.”

“... Because dreams are like… a direct link to the soul?” you asked.

“Sure, why not,” he answered dismissively. “I can see everything about you, every tick, every itch. With all this daydreaming you do,” he gestured to himself and the rest of the room, “if I keep you around I can have as much fun as I want.”

“And you’ll be more powerful,” you added, the very notion sending a tinge of fear through you.

“Aren’t you smart!”

You averted your eyes from his predatory stare and gulped nervously, unable to stop the slight blush from creeping up on you. There it was again, that weird feeling in the back of your mind and the pit of your chest; the feeling that you were fighting to suppress. “... You can see everything?”

“_ Everything _,” he cooed with a grin that rivaled the cheshire cat.

You winced as Freddy swiftly reached out with his clawed hand, held a tip under your chin and turned your gaze back to him, a quiet chuckle rumbling up from his throat as he examined you. Then you felt a little tickly slowly traveling up your forearm, and you looked down to see a giant wasp crawling up it. Not just giant, it was a _ giant _, horrifying, absolute abomination-to-god size motherfucker creeping towards you. A slew of screams, curses, and incomprehensible noises came out of your mouth and you wildly flailed about in a panicked and desperate attempt to get this monstrosity off you. 

“(Y/n)!”

“What?!” You stopped for a moment and whipped around to face your friend who had called to you from one of the aisles. Then you looked around you and noticed there was no bug, nor was there a Freddy. 

“Everything ok?” she asked.

“Uhh, yeah,” you answered sheepishly while you straightened your clothes and hair. “Just thought I saw a uh… spider.”

“Alright, well, kill it next time I guess.”

“Right…” 

In another realm that you couldn’t see, the dream realm, Freddy was cackling as he watched you lose your shit over the illusion he fooled you with, then get all embarrassed and flustered when you realized how crazy you looked. He was going to have a lot of fun with you.


	3. Undisclosed Desires

When Freddy wasn’t busy putting teenagers through hell and committing a whole lot of murder, he was actually spending much of his spare time following you. He’d watch you as you went about your day and poke around your head, picking up on your little mannerisms and habits. All the more to scare you with, he told himself, but occasionally he’d catch offhand thoughts popping into his head like how cute you were. He tried to dismiss it - Fred Krueger doesn’t find people  _ cute _ \- but how you looked when you were scared and the things you did when you thought no one was watching were just so amusing.

What Freddy had neglected to share with you earlier was that using you as some sort of power source wasn’t the only reason he was keeping you around. His usual shtick was becoming a bit repetitive and he was starting to think maybe he should try something new for once. On a whim he came to you, and right off the bat he knew this would be interesting. A beautiful thing like yourself? Yeah he could agree it’d be a shame if you withered away - be it by his hands or something else - but that never stopped him from snuffing out a brat before. No, for some reason he didn’t get that reckless desire to kill you like the others, instead the feeling was almost possessive, like he just wanted to keep you all to himself. That and he could feel something different in you, too. Hidden under the fear, behind the mind’s natural reaction to the hell he creates in the dream world, there was quite the unusual response in you. It piqued his interest enough for him to stick around, and he wanted to push your buttons and bring that response out. He just couldn’t wait until there was a lull in your day and you’d inevitably start to daydream, or better yet, when you fell asleep. That’s when the real fun would begin and he could dive into your nightmares, reading your mind like a book. 

And you must have been a good read at the very least: full of fears he could mess with, secrets, desires. Almost every night he came to you in your dreams, hell, you anticipated it. Sometimes they were bonafide nightmares where he exploited your deepest fears or put you in dangerous situations, only to “save” you just before it got  _ too _ dangerous. Other times it would be a hunt, and you’d be the prey of course. You’d find yourself in his stomping grounds, carefully and quietly snooping around as if he didn’t already know you were there, and of course he’d be close behind with a taunt or a screech of those razors to let you know he was after you. Running was futile, but you did it anyway and he’d always give chase.

You’d never admit it, but in a way you actually liked those dreams. The primal fear of being hunted, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you ran from Freddy; it was  _ exhilarating _ . Undoubtedly he caught on when you once let a giggle slip as he snatched you up by the shirt with his glove, almost tearing it clean off.

“Having fun, are we?” he growled, snaking an arm around your waist to keep you from getting away. The close contact sent a light blush sprawling across your cheeks and you hoped it just seemed that way from running.

“No,” you panted, “can’t you see? I’m so scared I’m shaking in my boots.” It’s true you were trembling, but that was more because of the adrenaline than anything else. He could see in your eyes, though, the fiery excitement that was accompanying your fear more and more lately. It resonated with that strange feeling inside you, and he savored it.

The killer laughed and roughly let go of you, causing you to stumble back onto the rickety catwalk of the boiler room. The whole thing jostled precariously under the sudden shift in weight. “Oh, don’t go fallin’ for me now!” he teased, and almost right on cue you heard a heart-stopping clank as the grate below you broke apart and you went plummeting down into a pit, his distinct cackle echoing from above. You woke up before reaching the bottom, though you had actually fallen out of your bed. Go figure.

By now you’d pretty much accepted he wasn’t going to kill you, although it still wasn’t very clear why. However, his sharp wit grew on you and you had fun going back and forth with it. One thing that never failed to get you, though, was his popping in and out whenever he pleased, usually when you least expected it.

One evening you were brushing your teeth before bed, and it had been a long day with two exams and a busy shift, so you were just barely hanging on until you could lay down and conk out. You stood at the sink in a tired daze, lazily going through the motions with only one thought on your mind: sleep. Pausing for a second, you leaned over to spit out the extra froth and fill up a cup of water to rinse. But when you stood back up, you nearly jumped out of your skin. Freddy had materialized in the mirror, his reflection standing behind yours even though he wasn’t physically there.

“Hey sweetcheeks,” he greeted nonchalantly.

“God,” you gasped, clutching your chest to still your racing heart.

“In the flesh.”

You just rolled your eyes. “You couldn’t wait until I actually went to bed?”

“Aw come on, I know you wanted to see me.”

“Oh please.” You took a sip of the water and swished it around before spitting it back out into the sink.

“Damn, I was hoping you were a swallower.”

You shot upright and glared at him in surprise. “You’re disgusting,” you muttered, but couldn’t hide the mischievous smirk.

He let out a hearty laugh as you finished up, and while you wiped your face down with a warm washcloth you felt him twirl a strand of your hair around his fingers. Once again your heart skipped a beat, but this time not out of fear. He rested his clawed hand on one of your shoulders and leaned his head on the other, and immediately that strange feeling spiked. Still, you didn’t like thinking about it, but it was becoming harder to avoid. It was like a flustered heat in the pit of your stomach accompanied by a kind of excitement different from when he chased you. It flared up when he got closer to you, when he spoke in that deep voice of his, or when you thought about how much power he held over you and in general. You couldn’t help but recognize it for what it truly was; no matter how much you hated to admit it, Freddy turned you on. 

To your dismay he picked right up on your change in mood, something he’d been toying with for quite some time, and he decided he would test just how far he could push it. Your eyes followed his razors in the mirror as they slowly trailed down your side to your hip, your breath catching in your throat.

“You know,” he said with that coarse tone purring right into your ear, “there’s been a lot of blood on these hands, (y/n).” The way he said your name made you weak in the knees, but you resisted. “I’ve killed a lot of people. You ever think about that?”

You swallowed hard, unable to look him in the eyes despite his gaze fixated intently on you. “Uh… no, I guess not really. I mean, you’re fucked up,” you laughed half-heartedly, “but…”

“But  _ what? _ ”

“But uh… I dunno…” You didn’t dare finish the sentence, for the mere thought of telling Freddy you even remotely liked having him around made your stomach churn. 

“What’s the matter, princess, cat got your tongue?” he said, lightly digging his claws into your hips. He knew you were holding back, but he could tell it was getting harder and harder - much like something else, the more he read into your intrusive thoughts - and he had to admit he was enjoying this quite a bit. The fuel that was your fear was delicious, but your weakness? Intoxicating. When he went into your dreams for the first time he never expected much to come of it, in fact he figured he’d eventually grow bored of you and kill you off like the others, but then again, he’d never encountered someone this…  _ eager _ . Normally he’d be royally pissed off if someone was no longer afraid of him, but he was having quite a bit of fun this time. He wanted to keep you all to himself, and with the combined power of your fear and your desire he’d be near unstoppable. All he needed to do was get rid of that inhibition. That would happen in due time, though, because he had a feeling tonight was going to be a little different. As he stood behind you in the mirror and watched your increasingly flustered face - that thought of how cute you were crossing his mind again - he grinned devilishly.

“I think it’s your bedtime,” Freddy teased, snapping your attention back to him. He let go of you and stepped back, leaving you still wanting more of his touch. You internally scolded yourself for being so needy. “See you on the other side, doll!” he called, and with another cackle he vanished into thin air.


	4. Let It Happen

You rolled your eyes again and flicked off the light before climbing into bed. Deep sleep was calling your name and just moments after closing your eyes you were whisked away to dreamland. You were expecting to see Freddy right away, seeing as he was so insistent on popping in just moments ago, but he was actually nowhere in sight. Instead of appearing in the boiler room like many of your dreams with him started, you arrived in a dream so pleasant you were actually surprised. You were on a boardwalk by the beautiful, crystal blue ocean, and around you were all sorts of fun things: an arcade, carnival games with fun prizes, an entire pier of thrilling rides. And the best part? Not another soul; you had the place all to yourself. 

With the giddiness of an unsupervised child you started in the arcade, finding an infinite supply of change in your pockets and all of your favorite games. When you had your fill of that you moved on to the rides, conquering every coaster at least twice and taking a spin on the Tilt-a-Whirl as many times as you damn well pleased. After that you decided to take a brief break and rested on a bench that faced the ocean, ice cream cone in hand. It was like a dream come true, a day of fun designed specifically for you. He typically specialized in nightmares, but you couldn’t help but wonder if Freddy was behind this. Speaking of which, where was he? The bastard usually showed up by now. 

Even though this dream was wonderful on its own, you found yourself still wishing he was there. It was always fun when he was around, and you were getting a little lonely having the whole place to yourself. Your mind wandered to his antics earlier and a hot blush spread across your face. The way he pressed himself against you and caressed you with those knives, like he  _ knew _ what he was doing to you; you longingly wondered what else he could do. Suddenly you shook your head, as if clearing the lewd thoughts like an Etch-a-Sketch. Now was not the time to get hot and bothered…

“If you missed me you should have just said so.” The voice of Freddy and of course its source appeared beside you, sitting as if he’d been there the whole time. 

“Took you long enough,” you muttered and licked the sweet treat in your hand.

“You know how it is - dreams to invade, kids to kill,” he replied with a laugh.

“Speaking of which, is this your doing?”

He looked around at the boardwalk. “I might have seen this in your subconscious once or twice.”

Of course he’d never admit to doing something nice, why even bother. Still, the thought warmed your heart. But… what else was he seeing in there? You thought he only saw fears. “Freddy?” you asked warily.

He just hummed and waited for you to continue.

“When you’re in my mind, what kind of stuff you do see?”

“I see whatever I want, kitten. The things that scare you shitless, hidden lusts, everything.” He casually leaned back and draped an arm over your shoulders.

Your chest tightened at the mention of lusts and his nonchalant touch, but you felt a little daring and cautiously leaned into him nonetheless.Usually you weren’t one to drop hints, but if he already knew what you were thinking, what’s the harm? “... What kind of desires do you see in me?”

Freddy looked at you with a raised brow. He could feel it, he could feel that resistance breaking down, as well as your budding arousal. He was right, tonight  _ was  _ going to be different. “I see the desires of a freaky little slut who wants nothing more than to be shown who’s boss,” he sneered. 

_ Well he hit that nail right on the head _ , you thought and leaned further into him. “Well,” you said demurely, “are you gonna show me who’s boss, Krueger?”

He was almost shocked at your bravery, but the way you looked at him after saying that and then slowly licked the ice cream cone without breaking eye contact was so damn  _ hot _ . Freddy swiftly stood up and extended his hand to you, which you eagerly took after discarding your treat. At long last, you’d surrendered yourself to him. 

“I know just the place,” he said, leading you across the boardwalk to a building you hadn’t noticed before. From the outside it appeared to be a hotel, but inside the lobby was small, unstaffed, and decorated uniquely with a couple of bright red neon signs that spelled “LOVE”. Freddy picked up a key sitting on the desk and led you to a room upstairs. With each step the knot in your stomach got tighter and tighter, and the sexual tension had become nearly palpable. 

When he unlocked the door and stepped inside you were taken aback by the decor; the walls were a dark red wallpaper, plush black carpet and matching velvet curtains, there was a garden tub big enough for three people in the corner, and front and center was a large, heart-shaped bed with red and green striped satin sheets, a headboard made of erect lengths of chain, and a pair of handcuffs attached to said headboard. On the nightstand sat a box of wet wipes and a bottle of clear fluid. 

“Is this supposed to be your sex dungeon or something?” you asked, trying to stifle your giggles.

“What, too cheesy?” He rested his hands your waist from behind and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Quite possibly the cheesiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He let out a hearty laugh. “Alright sweetcheeks, why don’t you pick, then?”

You thought of where you’d rather be and to your amazement it started to materialize around you. The scenery changed to the familiar boiler room, in a more secluded area that was away from the leaks and flames and less bombarded with harsh heat. There was a comfortable, normal looking bed against the wall right in front of you. “Much better,” you said, turning to face the smug slasher. 

Freddy’s hands gripped your waist tighter, the claws precariously poking into your skin while he pulled you closer to him with a devilish grin. You looked up at this man, this demon, and although by all accounts he was repulsive and a killer, you’d do just about anything for him to take you right then and there. Finally he leaned down and met your lips, the kiss at first surprisingly tender until it quickly intensified. You draped your arms over his shoulders as your mouths mingled passionately and he wasted no time in slipping in some tongue. His muscle explored you and dominated your own so soon there was hardly even a battle. 

In the mess of the kiss you could feel the heat pooling between your legs as you dissolved into a wanting mess. You desperately clutched his sweater to pull him tight against you and he clutched your rear with his gloved hand, the blades digging in through your shorts. After what felt like a sweet eternity he broke the hot kiss to give your neck the same treatment until you let a breathy moan slip through your lips, then he stopped. Freddy looked you up and down, amused by how soon you submitted.

“Already so horny for me, kitten?” he teased.

You blushed and laid back on the bed, bashfully pinning your legs together yet beckoning him to follow with those sultry eyes. He loomed at the edge of the bed for a moment, that scary, intimidating figure that once struck terror into your heart with his power, but now all you wanted was for him to ravage you and make you his bitch. As he kicked off his boots you coyly slid a hand between your legs and rubbed yourself through your shorts and underwear, biting your lip when you caught his eye. The look he gave you was so hungry, that for a moment you wondered if you’d survive the night.

With deft movements he climbed onto the bed towards you and slipped his hands between your thighs to pry them apart with ease. Your shorts and panties were gone in the blink of an eye and he dove into your pussy, making quick work with his skilled mouth. Hands gripping your soft thighs to keep them spread wide, you were overcome with pleasure while he sucked your clit and plunged his unnaturally long tongue into your wet cavern. He paid careful attention to your whimpers and whines, quickly figuring out the methods that really drove you wild. 

“Ooh Freddy,” you gasped. Just a moment ago you were only being a tease, but already he had you wrapped around his little finger and was conducting your symphony of moans to the sweet melody of your first orgasm. His mouth moved expertly over your slick womanhood and you reached down, tossed his hat to the side, and held his head while your hips bucked into him. He looked up at you and hummed, sending you right to the edge and easily tipping you over with the intense stimulation of your little bud.

“Fuck!” you yelped as the climax rocked your body and you shuddered with pleasure. Panting, you soon came down from the ecstatic high, but Freddy didn’t stop. His tongue continued to explore you, overstimulating the now super-sensitive flesh and making your legs twitch. “Shit, gimme a second,” you muttered, trying to push him back and pull your hips away. He only responded with a mischievous chuckle, sliding his arms under your legs to pull you back against his face. His razor sharp claws resting on your hip were like an unspoken warning keeping you from trying to escape again.

“Freddy,” you whined, squirming under his relentless oral. Despite your protests and your involuntary twitching from the overworked nerves he was relentless, flicking, sucking, even gently nibbling your clit and labia until you soon felt another orgasm approach you. It came up suddenly, and the near pain of overstimulation quickly reverted to an intense pleasure unlike you’d ever felt before. Your broken, needy moans spilled freely from your mouth, getting louder and louder until you nearly came.  _ Nearly _ .

Freddy, ever in your head, waited until the climax was just about to spill over before he quickly withdrew, the only thing caressing your pussy now being the cool air. You whined for him but he just tutted. “Don’t be pathetic.” 

With that he got up on his knees and made a come hither motion with his knives, unbuttoning his pants with the other hand. You obediently sat up and tossed off your shirt before scooting closer with your head about level with his groin. Finally he dropped his pants and his hard cock sprung free in your face, awaiting attention. Seeing how turned on he was only made you more aroused and you could practically feel your pussy flood as he firmly commanded you to suck. You obeyed and lubricated his member with your saliva and began stroking it. A low groan rumbled up from his chest as he watched you take a bit of it in and out of your mouth while you smoothly stroked the rest. What you lacked in skill you made up for in enthusiasm, and honestly your adorable face looked so good stuffed with his cock he didn’t even care. 

He caressed your hair with his claws before holding your head still and beginning to thrust into you, working himself up to a good pace until he could feel himself start to get close, then he pulled out. You looked up at him and wiped the bit of drool and precum from your lips.

“Such a good little slut,” he purred, the praise sending a tinge of pleasure right to your core. 

“Only for you, Freddy,” you replied sweetly as he placed a hand on your shoulder and laid you back down, then opted to cut your bra off in one swift motion rather than unhook it.

He paused. “Who?”

“... Daddy,” you corrected yourself, and he sneered.

“That’s right, princess.” Freddy rewarded you by giving your bare breasts some much needed attention, fondling each of them and gingerly rolling your nipples between his rough fingers. You were so caught up in the dirty talk and pleasing touches that you didn’t even notice him nudging between your legs and lining himself up with your waiting entrance, at least until you felt the head of his thick member poking between your wet lips. However, by then it was too late to prepare yourself as he slid all the way in.

You immediately saw stars, breath hitching sharply at the sudden stretch of your slick walls. Without a moment to lose he repeated the motion over and over again, building up speed until he was going at a steady pace. By the time you adjusted and the pain of his unforgiving love-making subsided, you were bucking your hips with him and arching your back. That familiar climb to the peak of pleasure started again and in no time he worked you right back to the plateau, your reckless whimpers like music to his ears. Freddy let out a guttural laugh; he didn’t have to make you his bitch, you signed right up for it.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck,” you moaned, eyes rolling back as you teetered on the edge of cumming again, but to your dismay he pulled out right at it was about to hit you. Damn his perfect timing, keeping your orgasm from you was a feeling worse than losing a good sneeze halfway through. You whined for him to keep going but he just sat there with that cheshire cat smile, bladed hand on your knee and his cock, glistening from your juices, standing at attention.

“Please Freddy,” you murmured, fully aware of how pitiful you sounded but too horny to care.

“You’ll cum when Daddy tells you to,” he intoned.

You shut right up at that, surprised by how intensely that turned you on. You weren’t even aware you had this kink, yet here you were thriving off of it.

Just to make sure you didn’t try anything during the next part, Freddy summoned an animate length of chain that slithered up to the bed and forced your hands above you, securing your wrists to a pipe on the wall. He then roughly tossed one of your legs over the other and tilted you to the side, pausing for just a moment to take off and set aside his iconic glove. Your heart actually skipped a beat and you realized that could only mean one thing: shit was about to go  _ down _ .

He positioned himself at your rear and easily slipped two fingers into your pussy, thoroughly exploring you and pumping them in and out, all the while servicing himself with his other hand. Working you back to the edge of orgasm was now an easy task considering how badly you wanted it, but that only meant he was going to take his sweet old time getting you there. Again. And again. And again. When he found your g-spot he abused that thing like no tomorrow, but still wouldn’t let you cum. This went on for what seemed like forever, eventually getting to the point where you were nearly in tears from wanting that release and he hardly had to touch you before you were there again. 

It was pure suffering in the best way possible, but Freddy still had more planned and he couldn’t have you letting go too early, so he finally gave you a moment of respite. Keeping you restrained so you wouldn’t touch yourself, he turned you onto your back once more and leaned over you, nibbling your already marked neck and still stroking his rock hard cock. His stamina amazed you - this whole time he hadn’t cum once, holding out for the big finale. 

After the brief break, he hooked his hands under your knees and folded your legs back as far as they would go, baring your dripping pussy for all to see. You sighed as the chains finally released your hands, letting you reach out and caress the chest of your lover as he readied his hips at your core again. The soft smack of his shaft as it came to rest on your still tender clit made you twitch, and he chuckled.

“Ready for Freddy?”

“Hell fucking yes,” you breathed.

He drove into you full force, banging you hard right away. It was pure ecstasy. You pressed yourself back and gripped the sheets, moaning with every thrust.

“That’s my whore,” he cooed between his own soft grunts and pants. Your tight pussy still felt so incredibly good around his cock.

“I-I’m gonna cum again, I’m so close,” you stuttered out, and you feared another session of torturous edging, but he didn’t stop this time. He just looked at you, eyes clouded with lust, and nodded. The permission alone could have sent you over, but now that you were finally free to let go you wanted to savor the feeling of him inside of you. You tossed your head back and reveled in the incredible sensation, your thoughtless moans increasing in pitch and volume with every hard, balls-deep thrust. With both hands on your hips as he pounded into your bouncing body into the mattress, Freddy fucked you fervently until at long last the final orgasm ripped through you. If you were seeing stars earlier, this time you saw the whole fucking galaxy. The blindingly intense wave of pleasure rocked you to your core, and as you laid there totally blissed out, your juices leaking and squirting over his cock, Freddy blew his load only a moment later. With a drawn out, hoarse “fuck”, he swiftly pulled out and painted your torso with splatters of hot cum. 

The sounds of sex gave way to the regular drone of the boiler room as the two of you caught your breath, your legs unfolding and Freddy resting on his elbows over you.

“Now, what you say?” he said in that mocking tone.

You smiled. “Thank you Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about that one bit i just thought the idea of a freddy-themed love hotel room was hilarious, carry on


	5. Epilogue/Extra

You woke up late the next morning, feeling groggy and having slept not only past your alarm, but also past your morning classes. The last thing you remembered from last night was getting cleaned up after having your brains fucked out, and then Freddy let you sleep. You furrowed your brow as you rolled over in bed. You couldn’t believe you actually did that - didn’t necessarily regret it, but couldn’t believe you had those kind of hots for the demon going around town killing people in their dreams. In hindsight it was almost amusing, and you laughed quietly to yourself as you opened your eyes to the sight of the crispy bastard himself laying next to you. 

“Morning, bitch.”

Extremely confused, you shot upright and realized you were also nude. “What are you doing here? Aren’t I awake?” you asked, covering yourself with the sheet.

“Wow, no ‘good morning Freddy’? After all the fun we had last night,” he said, feigning a hurt tone. You just scowled. “Just thought I’d pay a visit to your world for once, doll. You’re cute when you sleep.” He chuckled and propped his head up while he gazed at you.

“You’re such a creep.”

“Aw, aren’t you sweet.”


End file.
